h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Thank you, Dmitri! I can see my old stuff again...with a new U-number.

So everything that isn't the Piney default is called Ripley as a matter of programmer humor...got it...I like Brunel/Ripley for conversations and Alabaster/Ropley for everything else...except the Front Page...

(sips morning coffee in Cafe Stay Home, and considers the extraordinarily intelligent and prolific output of her friends.)

What??? There's people out there who have written more Guide Entries than Mister D?

(takes another sip of morning coffee in Cafe Stay Home)

(heads off to check Phreddy's account, that has turned up. Very clever these wonderful people who can rootle through the h2g2 archives to bring treasure to light.



Makes me think about archaeological digs. What would I like to find under the earth?

My Dad used to find flint arrow heads, that turned up after the fields were ploughed.

I'd like to find something that couldn't be immediately identified. Like a stone with a strange pattern or map on it.

Ah yes!! Phreddy's Guide Entries!

And there's the Travelogue pieces you did for The Post!!! That's amazing!!!

I love your intro page, Entering Unknown Zone ....

Creative report from Cafe Stay Home. Just rabbiting here. Then I'll hop off.

With time to spare, I decided to melt my attempted word patterns into music (no, really?? ).

It has been going well in fact, my little synth is steaming. .

At this time, I feel so dependent on scientists and all the front line workers, and everyone really, like all the human community spirit. I think I feel inadequate. I want to make a difference.

In the face of such a vast challenge, with so many questions, my words seem somehow pointless, if they're not useful to the cause. Music seems more abstract or something ...

However the titles of the pieces and the odd random echo-lyric still sneak in.

Quite good to see them really. At least they make me smile. Is it OK to smile about stupid things, despite the gravity?

I guess its all balance.

Yesterday's piece was entitled Peculiar Poems Perch On My Head And Pirouette With Outstretched Wings.

'They also serve who only sit and wait.' Milton. Truer words were never spoke during a quarantine.

If you think things couldn't get any weirder, think again.

Outside my window, the world is a beautiful white.

Yes, children, it snowed on Good Friday.

In the meantime, one thing you can all do to help during this time is to keep the h2g2 Post supplied with copy guaranteed to help the planet while away the lonely hours.

I always need: photos, photos with poems, photos with stories, short stories, brief essays on whatever's going on in your head, if anything, reports of events, artwork, cartoons, comics, videos you put on Youtube (we embed), etc. Also book and movie reviews, if you've found something worth sharing.

It snowed on Good Friday???? Like, today??

Is this characteristic?

I do remember snow in April. I remember crying as a kid, because there was snow on the daffodils.



OK so I won't feel inadequate any more. .

I'll get to work on some photos for the Post. I checked my phone gallery a few days ago, to try to find something. I think I've sent you just about ever pic I ever took, that is shareable. I'll have to get to work on some new stuff, erm, from the flat.

Yep, it's snowing, and no, that's not exactly normal for this time of year, but it's not unheard of, alas. And it had better not mess with my daffodils, they were all ready to pop.

..they also serve...I was thinking of Churchill or FDR...Milton...<ok)

...Daffodil Days...a fundraising event held by the American Cancer Society, but only in the states where daffodils bloom on the right days...

...Strange Poets I have admired...James Dickey...Jim Morrison

To do list:
- Make the bed
- Order groceries
- Read the paper
- Help landscape Committee prune shrubs (27-foot distance)...they prune, we bag..
- Boring!

...you made me think of "WWII Tank Crew poetry"...what an interesting thing to Google..or find in the attic...

...Flasback...Trick or treating in two feet of snow...Ithaca, New York, 1948...walking in the snow, barefoot, 5 miles uphill, both ways to go to school...

In Ithaca, I believe it. My parents lived in Horseheads for about a decade. You were far above Cayuga's waters...

Okay. Here is video proof of today's outrage, complete with angry birds.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_Kt6Na216k

Chopin and Bluegrass?

I calls 'em like I sees 'em. (At least, I played the Chopin.)

My father was arrested in Horseheads in 1940. He and a friend. "Coxy" got drunk and drove to a Horseheads' funeral parlor to see an embalmed corpse.

The indigent corpse was nicknamed "Bill Bailey" and was displayed behind glass as an example of the embalmer's work.

My father, Harry. and Coxy started playing grabass and Coxy got pushed through the plate glass...I still have the newspaper clipping from the Ithaca Journal somewhere.

The police came and put them both in jail for the night to sober up.

Yes..truth is stranger...

Actually we were down in the Ithaca delta area...333 Center Street is where I was born in my Grandma's house...Mom Was building radar actuated artillery fuses up on the hills and Dad had just entered France...

That's a great tale!

Now, hint...that would make a great story to write up for the Post...hint...

Here in Sussex, it was sunny and warm for Good Friday.

We went for a walk to our local Common - it's not far and there's enough space to avoid people. We did see a police car with 'Stay at Home' on the back, but they weren't bothering us.

There were butterflies: orange tip, brimstone and peacock.